


Lost Light

by Akarri



Series: Postmortem [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Suicide, Parental Roy Mustang, Post-Promised Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akarri/pseuds/Akarri
Summary: Sequel to Postmortem.The Promised Day has come and gone, and Roy reacts to the consequences just as well as can be expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we have it: a little sequel to Postmortem, explaining the future we all sadly knew was coming. If you haven't read my other fic, Postmortem, then.... you know. Don't read this. ;u; ALSO if you haven't read the one-shot thing Ranowa wrote for it, "Birthday Cake and Broken Hearts Taped Whole", I HIGHLY suggest you do because it's wonderful and gives me life.

“Whether you like it or not, we're going to force you to open the portal. Prepare yourself.”

“No, I won't do it!” Roy growled.

“I wonder- what will be taken from you in exchange, Mustang?”

Doubts began to circle through his head, wondering the same question. That was the last thought to brush across his mind before his body was struck with an immeasurable amount of pain as the circle was fully activated. His vision blurred and an agonizing scream was ripped mercilessly through his throat. His back arched against the binds, but still he could not fight against them as every muscle spasmed and cried.

He heard the voices of the others- Hawkeye- calling out to him, but everything was overpowered by the pure power of the circle. The light burst around him, consuming his vision as all sense of self was overwhelmed by raging agony.

Nothing but a hot, searing white.

And then he was back on his feet and his consciousness slowly returned, but enough for him to suddenly realize that he was now somewhere else entirely.

He wasn't in pain anymore, but there was absolutely nothing around him. Perhaps he was too lost and confused to even think about pain. His surroundings were unlike anything he had ever seen. There was just... nothing. Strangly, his eyes did not need to adjust to the sheer white that surrounded him, almost as if he had been diconnectd from his scarred body.

He sensed a presence behind him, and Roy spun around to face it, far too disoriented to bother hiding his shock. A figure, about his size, but entirely devoid of any detail; just an empty body stared back. It had no eyes, and yet he could feel it gazing into him as if it knew his every thought and emotion. Behind it, was a large stone door.

It grinned at him and laughed at some unsaid joke that he he must have missed. The door opened, revealing an abyss inside of it. Just staring into that inky darkness set a deep terror in Roy's heart. His eyes widened as he stared into it for a split second, knowing that he wanted to go nowhere near it and yet somehow knowing that he didn't have a choice.

And as if things couldn't get worse, a thin line appeared in the center of the open door that quickly opened and grew into a single eye boring back at him. It was empty and emotionless, and yet somehow alive and hungry and striking him with the terrifying feeling that he had locked eyes with death itself.

He felt himself step away from it, but a hundred black arms shot out from the darkness and effortlessly wrapped around him. His arms immediately rose to yank them off despite them tearing at his skin as he tried to scramble away- where to, he had no idea but more came and more restrained him, overpowering him with their numbers until he was incapable of fighting back any longer.

“No- stop! Stop, get away! Get off- Stop!” he begged desperately and without thought as his senses were dulled by the fearful static that rung in his ears. His heart pounded fiercely as one of his greatest and most recent phobias grew closer and closer to him in spite of his efforts. They dragged him towards the door no matter how much he yelled and begged and pleaded not to bring him back into the darkness.

As he was pulled into it, his eyes caught onto the white figure who only watched and smiled at him, and he somehow knew that thing to be the Truth that Edward had spoken of.

He looked back to see the door shut behind him as he was pulled into the void, and tightly shut his eyes to somehow keep the darkness at bay. But as if he no longer had any control over his body, his eyes flew open and information was flashing before him, pouring into his brain without his consent. But as he stared, feeling it absorb into him, but eyes began to tingle. And a split second later, more of the arms darted towards him from nowhere and aimed straight for his face. A spike of fear shot through his chest as they seemed to want to gouge his eyes. With his arms still restricted, Roy could only flinchingly shut his eyes and close off the images that spiraled around him.

He was falling deeper and deeper into the pit, trying to fight against the arms that kept him from clawing his way back up. He wanted to scream, it was so much- too much. But just as he thought his head would burst, he hit the cold ground.

* * *

 

It was so unfair. Roy was in the center of an event that would shape history forever. That day would have been recorded and retold in textbooks for decades to come. And yet in the moment of truth, on a day that should have been shining with glory, Roy had fallen back into the darkness. He felt and heard life changing events happening around him. The heat of action and alchemically charged battles simmered against his skin, and yet he had been disconnected from it all. The day that he was supposed to grab hold of the reigns of the country and steer it in the right direction was swallowed by shadows, but for no one besides him.

It was very unfair.

If he had lost his sight saving someone's life or in order to defeat the being who had almost murdered the entire country, it would have been better. Microscopically better, but still.

But no. Instead, he had been blinded by their schemes, then cast aside as though his loss meant nothing besides their victory. The world went on, leaving Roy behind for no reason, other than being a tool in another man's game.

At the end of the day, the reason hardly mattered; he would have been mortified either way because he had all of a sudden found himself back there. Only this time, he couldn't crawl his way out. Nothing he did would ever matter, because this darkness now followed him relentlessly.

No amount of light or support from others could change that. Roy had lost his sight, and his eyes had become utterly useless.

But somehow, by some struck of dumb, cruel irony, he had gained something as well. The knowledge that resided behind the gate of Truth was opened to him. He imagined he saw the very same thing that Edward had when he first attempted human transmutation, since he too no longer needed the assistance of a circle to perform alchemy.

But what did that matter, when so much was taken? In comparison, the ability to perform alchemy without a circle meant nothing to him.

He fell to his knees, strongly sensing that something of importance was happening- something about Edward, but he felt the world spin before he could find out what.

* * *

 

Roy had no recollection of when he had fallen unconscious when he eventually woke to the sound of carts squeaking across hallways followed by the sharp clicking of distant footfalls and nearby beeps of complicated machines. He sluggishly pulled a hand up to rub at his tired eyes and was confused when he felt the soft material of bandages. He opened his eyes on impulse. A violent chill immediately surged through his body as he only saw darkness, and suddenly his mind fell back to an abysmal place that should have remained in the past.

A sharp jolt of adrenaline smothered the weariness of having just woken up for a brief moment, and he was suddenly back underground with cruel laughter echoing across the concrete walls. Every nerve was set alight as he was struck with the powerful sensation that he was about to be struck by an unseen enemy. He curled in on himself defensively and held that tense position for a moment until he could will some consciousness into his suddenly scrambled brain.

Having such abrupt flashbacks were not uncommon. Roy held his breath, barely holding up the thin pillar that kept him together as he clumsily tried to check if there was anything covering his face. But with an overwhelming sense of horror, he discovered that not to be the case.

A powerful wave of sheer terror and fear washed over him, nearly choking him under the overpowering weight. He gasped harshly for air and clung to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric as if to somehow alleviate the pressure.

But no- no, it could still be okay. The lights were off. It was just the light.

Roy had lost track of how many times he had woken up in the middle of his night in the safety of his own home, breathless and frightened like a child simply because a draft had shut his door, trapping the faint hallway light out, which was eventually what convinced him to buy a nightlight, despite the embarrassment that came along with it.

As it was so many times before, it was just the lights.

Just the lights. Just the lights, Just the lights.

Breathing heavy and limbs shaking from fear, Roy fought to extract himself from the sheets that had covered him, eventually untangling his legs and tossing the fabric to the side, doing his best to not be paralyzed by the realization that he had no idea where he was or what time of day it was. The colonel nervously felt for the side of the bed and shifted to stand. Roy slowly and hesitantly pushed himself up, straining his eyes to see a hint of value or depth, but every thought froze for a fraction of a second as his feet made contact with the cold ground, shooting icicles through his nerves. A sharp gasp ripped through his throat as his body chilled, reminding him far too much of the old, dirty cell he had been trapped him.

The light.

Roy shook his head and let out a quaking exhale as he cautiously extended his arms and took a step forward, pausing briefly as he felt a weight pull at his arm. He studied it for a moment before thoughtlessly pulling the IV line out to continue on the matter of much greater importance.

He somehow made his way to the opposing wall and found the door frame first. But with every foot forward, he stared deeper and deeper into the space before him, mutely begging to see something within the limitless darkness. Horror rising by the second, he was able to guide his restrained, muted hands to find what he could only assume to be the light switch after that, but...

He had eagerly flipped the switch once, then twice, then back and forth again before any point in doing so was stripped away. Because there was still only darkness around him.

It wasn't the lights this time.

The pillar crumbled and vivid images rushed through his brain too quickly to make much sense of. He recognized bursts of fire and pain, damning medication and betrayed golden eyes turning away, dogs baring their daunting teeth and blood rushing out from open wounds.

It had all been pushed down. He had healed! That's what he had been telling himself up until then, but any words of comfort or reassurance were silenced when a guttural, wild scream rung in his ears, which he only vaguely recognized to be coming from his own dry throat. He felt his bandaged hands curl around his mess of black bangs as his body shook violently. Whatever strength he still had in his legs was sucked dry and he felt himself fall to the ground. Forgotten demons returned at full force, dragging him deeper and deeper into the abyss- the ocean- where he couldn't see, couldn't breathe-

A loud static buzzed in his head, blocking out all thought or reason besides the haunting memories of the past. He clawed at the bandages around his hands, ripping the soft fabric so he could at least feel around his surroundings, suddenly overwhelmed by a deep sense of helplessness. He couldn’t protect himself like this! Hell, he couldn’t even inhale. He needed to get the bandages off before they choked him, he thought as his quaking hands went up to his neck, feeling the scarred skin burn like the old wound had been sliced open. Though there was not one, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the same binds wrapped around his neck too tightly for air to pass through. They would kill him at this rate!

Roy didn’t want to die. God, not again. He had already felt death too many times to count, some meetings far more intimate than others.

He mindlessly shuffled to the side as a small voice somehow knew where to go, allowing himself to sit up against the cold wall despite the awakened aches and pains that coursed through his body. The joints in his fingers and the gashes in his palms cried out in pain, but he ignored them as he so often did. It mildly dulled the pain he felt on his neck as his re-grown nails scratched red, angry lines across his skin in a blind effort to breathe.

The dark shadowy arms that reached out and attacked him- they flashed into his mind, constricting him again and pulling him further into the darkness. He had to get away. He had to escape. Fight back, scream for help, do whatever he had to!

Two stern hands fell on his shoulders and he heard a frantic voice behind the chaos that hummed relentlessly in his ears. He fought back harder, feeling his chest heave as his lungs grasped greedily for air, on the verge of hyperventilating as he gaspishly demanded to be left alone. The hands moved him slightly closer to their source- away from the wall- and suddenly he felt as though he was falling again. Plummeting to the depths with nothing to grasp onto for dear life, he flailed his arms out, desperate to grab onto something as a sharp gasp was caught in his throat. He was going to die, he was sure of it.

And then those two hands shifted around him and pulled him into a source of warmth. It held on tightly to him despite his attempts to get away, but giving Roy something to focus on. The world around him stopped spinning as he was held still, forcing him to pause for just long enough to hear the concerned and comfortably familiar murmuring that he could barely make out beyond the frantic static.

But even so, the darkness was suffocating. He choked through a sob as his shaking arms returned the tight embrace without thought, handicapped by the absolute dread that smothered him and whispered in his ear, saying that he would not make it out of the void this time. 

* * *

Maes gently brushed his thumb across Roy’s cheek, wiping off some of the wetness from his earlier breakdown. His friend had woken up in absolute hysteria, unaware of the tears that fell from his now useless eyes as he wildly kicked out and pulled at his bandages like the first day after being rescued from the crypt so many months ago. Maes had no idea what to do besides hold him down until he relaxed. He wasn’t even sure if he could tell him that everything would turn out alright this time without lying. He too was overtaken by fear, but he had to swallow it for Roy’s sake.

The colonel eventually fell asleep, clinging onto him as if doing so would somehow restore what had been lost. Maes cynically wondered if the man’s mind could take no more of the abysmal reality, and shut down simply to escape it. He couldn’t blame him. In fact, if that were the case, he was glad. He wanted Roy to avoid the truth for as long as he could. Let him enjoy a few blissful hours in the colors and light of his dreams.

But unfortunately, even that seemed beyond possible, given how much he writhed and tensed in his sleep. Maes continued to hold him in some vain hope to cast the demons away. Just- god, let his friend rest. For only a moment, please.

Despite his fear of disturbing him, Maes eventually lifted his poor friend from the ground and carried him back to the hospital bed, idly deciding to leave the discarded IV alone until a nurse could stick it back in his arm later. Thankfully, he did not stir from the movement. It was only been bad timing that Roy woke when he did- when Maes was taking a phone call in the lobby.

But since returning and calming him down, his friend had been asleep for hours, and Maes spent every possible moment by his side. He was apparently conscious when he was pulled into an ambulance after the fighting settled down, but was quickly put under due to his struggling. Something told him that the doctor who reported this to him was giving him the sugarcoated version, seeing how badly just a second of consciousness had affected him.

The doctor was concerned for Roy’s mental state, to say the least. The older man had suggestions; said they should observe for now, and consider medication if the situation called for it. Maes somehow managed to avoid giving the doctor a very pointed and rather furious explanation as to why that was a god awful idea. To be fair, he just lacked the energy to do so. Instead, the lieutenant colonel settled for ensuring him that it wouldn’t be necessary.

But at least the staff was quick to move onto what the physical problem was. They said his optic nerves were severed, though did not understand how. Maes didn’t bother to fill them in, and frankly, didn’t need to be told in the first place. Edward said that he had been forced to perform human transmutation and was blind when the gate spit him back out. He knew there was no hope, but he couldn’t help but ask if there was anything they could do for him. The doctor then went on about methods to cope, killing the little hope he had left of restoring his friend’s eyesight.

It wasn’t until he first came to Roy’s room and sat down in the corner as his friend slept did he realize just how huge of a blow that was to hear. It was as if all of the fighting and struggling they did to help Roy heal was for nothing. They had gotten so far. He was doing so well, all for naught.

He was foolish to think that they could have seen the end of this war without any more negative consequences. Anyone would know to expect some losses once they learned the nature of their enemy: the homunculi. And Maes was sure the others did, but he had somehow unknowingly convinced himself that they have already gotten through the worst of it. Who could have thought that anything worse than Roy being trapped underground for weeks straight after being thought to be dead could happen?

But alas, there was always something worse. He should have known that by now.

However, the true question remained: was it worth it? How much better would everything be if only they didn’t get involved? If everything could have just stayed the same…

Maes pinched the bridge of his nose, casting such pointless thoughts away. With the world on the brink of destruction, they didn’t really have a choice. But his mind kept wanting to wonder if there was any alternative.

And with Roy the way he was now, in so much anguish, he had to wonder if the man would agree that there was no other choice. Ordinarily, he was certain that Roy Mustang would sacrifice almost anything and declare it was worth it when so much was at risk. But now, as his horrified screams rung in Maes’ ears, he shuddered with the cold realization that he couldn’t say for sure.

Was it worth it…?

There was a light, hesitant tap at the door, presumably causing Roy to stir in his sleep and delatch his grip from Maes’ sleeve in favor for rolling onto his side and loosely hugging himself. His heart ached at the pitiable sight, but he turned towards the door, making a weak attempt to not look as miserable as he felt as it slowly opened.

Edward poked his head it with a hand still on the door frame, careful not to be disruptive, which was an odd sight to see after so long. At some point, he had acted very careful around the colonel after discovering he was actually alive. Their relationship mended into something entirely different, but now that uncertain caution was back, and Maes hated everything it stood for.

“Hey,” Maes greeted with a thin smile, not bothering to stand from the side of the bed.

Edward pursed his lip and fully entered the room, slowly closing the door behind him to muffle the sound of people passing by. Though he visited the kid earlier, Maes was almost shocked to see that the automail arm was missing from his body, and replaced by a frail flesh arm that hung limb by his side, too weak to be held up for very long. He was covered in various bandages from his many cuts and bruises, but seemed relatively unaffected by them, besides an overarching weariness. The kid shared a room with his brother for the time being, but still devoted small portions of time to visiting the colonel.

“How’s he doing?”

Maes just barely fought back the desire to expel an elongated sigh. “Well, he woke up just a little bit ago.” Edward straightened up, his golden eyes dashing to Roy’s tense form for a moment with something almost hopeful flashing behind the worried shadows. Maes hated to get his hopes up. “He... didn’t take it well, to say the least.”

And immediately, whatever optimistic emotion he saw in Edward's eyes disappeared and he frowned, sadly unsurprised. The kid said nothing for a moment as he found the chair Maes had left in the corner and pulled it over. Very slowly and methodically, Maes noticed as he begun watching him more closely. Edward acted as if moving each limb in the wrong way was painful for him- and after what he had been through, that was to be expected.

He nearly collapsed into the chair, slowly breathing out as the strain of walking all the way over here simmered.

“How are you doing, Edward?” he asked, voice quiet and laced with concern- a tone that the blond never liked being targeted with.

“'m fine,” he said simply, then sulked slightly when Maes shot him a dubious glance. “My body has been through a lot lately. It's just... catching up. But in comparison to others, I shouldn't be anyone's top concern,” he added eyes falling carefully down onto Roy.

Maes thought Edward was saying quite the understatement, considering his state, but he followed his gaze and studied his best friend for a moment. Still tense, still in pain, and still asleep. He sighed and looked back over Ed. “Speaking of which, how is Alphonse doing?” Maes was in there only the other day, but he was fast asleep at the time.

Edward smiled sadly. “He has a long way to go until his body is healthy again. But he's an Elric- he'll be fine.”

“That's good. I'm sure Roy will be happy to hear that when he wakes up,” Maes replied, forcing a small smile. But at the mention of the sleeping colonel, the two looked down at him again, their weak smiles both falling as a chilling silence consumed the room.

“This is wrong,” Edward breathed after several beats, eyes narrowed and shadowed. “This is all wrong. This shouldn't have happened to him.” His mismatched fists curled by his sides.

“I know,” Maes replied quietly, unsure what else to say.

“There's gotta be something we can do about it,” he continued, voice hardened with a desperate determination. But even so, his eyes seemed hollow, as if he knew deep down that there was little hope.

Maes rested his forearms on his knees, dropping his gaze down to the whitewashed tile. “...the doctor was talking about coping mechanisms.”

“To hell with that!” Edward spat with a burst of anger that pulled Maes' eyes up to him. “That sounds the same as giving up!”

“It's not like that, Ed,” Maes sighed, feeling a heavy weight in his chest. “It's not that simple.”

“It should be,” the blond growled under his breath. “It can't end like this. After everything he's been through! It’s not fair!”

And again, all Maes could bring himself to say was an empty and exhausted “I know.”

Several more muted beats passed between the two. Then at last, Edward slumped his shoulders, forced his fists to uncurl, and released a defeated sort of sigh. “Sorry,” he said quietly, and again Maes found himself raising his head to look at him, barely noticing that it had fallen. “I'm just... mad. Al and I finally got all that we ever wanted. But meanwhile, Mustang got something so important taken away.”

“This has been hard on everyone. But we'll figure it out somehow.”

“Yeah,” Edward breathed, but his words were strikingly unconvinced. The glimpse of sorrow that flashed across his face for a moment stopped Maes from adding anything else, stilling his tongue as his heart froze over. Noticing that the lieutenant colonel had no intention of responding, Ed straightened his back and feigned something that could almost resemble confidence. “I should get back to Al. He'll be worried if he wakes up without me there.”

Unknowingly to Ed, those words hit Maes in the chest like he had been kicked by the memories of earlier that day. Roy curling up against the wall, pulling at his hair and bandages and screaming his throat ragged… He was certain his friend was not fully lucid at the time- just enough to understand that he was blind. And that, of course, was more than enough to set him off.

“Let me know when he wakes up, yeah?” Maes blinked out of his thoughts as Ed addressed him after having moved back to the door.

Maes nodded, then tried to moisten his terribly dry mouth. “I will.”

Ed opened the door and paused as if he wanted to say more. But with his mouth held ajar as no words formed, he quickly clamped it shut again and turned out, closing the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Roy couldn't quite make out what he was dreaming of in his fragile state of unconsciousness. As an afterthought, he could only recognize the chaos and fear that remained clamped around his chest, tightening its grip with every passing minute. But hushed voices in the background became slightly more clear; not enough for him to make out their words, but he could hear the tone and the pitch, and was comforted by it. He focused on those soothing voices instead of the horrors of his dream that circled his mind like vultures squawking at him from overhead.

Eventually, Roy found the peaceful line between his dreams and consciousness that consisted solely of those familiar tones and the state of floating in nothing.

But like all things, that too was only temporary. The voices soon grew clearer and made their way through the thin veil that divided him from the waking world until he became aware of the soft bed that took his weight and the warm blanket that covered him. Cold air blew overhead from a nearby vent, and he shuffled further into the bed to avoid it. He was sure he recognized the voices now. Their gentle hums eased him and any worries that wanted to haunt him.

But as he laid there with his eyes shut, there was a brief moment where Roy wondered why he had guests so late at night. But half a second later, the reality of the situation caught up with him and he was hit with a cold realization that it being dark did not necessarily mean it was night.

It was almost laughable that he forgot that cruel fact for a moment. A short, blissful moment…

Seconds passed by, each one forcing him to further accept that no matter how widely he opened his eyes, he would only see nothing. The many memories that built up after first escaping the crypt ran quickly through his mind as his brain craved to see color and light, if only just from the past. But even they soon disappeared, as the voices became more coherent and that low gust of conditioned air became colder, sinking into his bones despite the warmth that surrounded him.

His body tensed as revolted waves ran through his spine at the thought. And then for a moment, the two voices paused, and the only sound to be heard was the low hum of the vent; but that meant nothing to him. He only cared about the voices.

Where did they go?

What happened?

Was he alone?

Did he just imagine them?

Where did they go?!

Roy's heart began to race violently in his chest and his breathing hastened heedlessly. He wanted so badly to just open his damn eyes and look around, but it was that familiarity with being unable to do so that was so incomprehensibly damning.

He lurched his weight to sit up and opened his mouth, almost to ask for them, but black arms rushing towards him, dogs baring their teeth, failed transmutation circles, his own maddening scrawls carved into the wall with his blood-

He kicked out at the blankets that had suddenly turned into a constricting net and pushed himself up against the wall behind him. His arms grasped onto each other, fingers tense, and unable to shake the need to _feel_ something just to know this was real. But all Roy could feel were the bandages that had returned around his hands, muting his senses and driving him mad.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and he gasped harshly on impulse. Immediately the touch disappeared. "Wait!" he cried breathlessly, leaning forward as if to follow, but freezing when he was hit by how lost he felt.

"Roy, it's just us: me and Hawkeye. It's okay."

Right. It was just them. The two people he trusted most. He was fine. In the hospital. Right…

He couldn't act like this. He had gone through his once before already; no matter how much it hurt and no matter all that he had lost, he couldn't let himself spiral into the madness that consumed his mind before. Roy was well aware of how those around him have suffered because of that. He was convinced: it would not happen again. He wouldn't let it...

The relief was overwhelming. Thoughtlessly, Roy found himself reaching forward- for what, he wasn't quite sure- but he found his friend's sleeve and held on tightly to it. "Don't leave," he burst out long before he could consider the words, far too distracted by the suffocating sense of uncertainty and fear that surrounded the dark space around him.

"I won't," Maes replied without missing a beat. That promise hung in the air for the next few seconds as Roy focused only on his breathing, unable to calm himself just yet as each heavy gasp tore through his lung. Despite all efforts, his body still shook and he could never suck in enough air for his greedy, overworked lungs.

Roy slowly willed his grip to release Maes' sleeve as he made himself sit up straight against the headboard, once again finding comfort in having a wall directly behind him. But then again, even long after being freed from his cell, that was a habit that never quite faded. By now, it was merely instinct.

Inhale, exhale, and a cough to clear his throat.

"Hawkeye?" he asked, voice far too shaken than what he would have preferred.

"I'm here," she answered, voice quieter than usual. While she may not have intended it, Roy picked up on a sadness there that he had not heard since he temporarily stayed at her apartment. Hearing it again after so much time pained his heart, especially after being plowed with the memory of one of the last sights he was able to see: Riza's throat being slit.

"Are- are you alright?"

"I'm alright," she answered with a hint of warmness in her voice. Glad that he was able to escape his own mind long enough to ask, no doubt. "I've been admitted down the hall. The doctors say I'll be here for only a few days."

In response, he could only manage a short nod as his mind traveled back to seeing a sword to her throat, followed by a pool of blood forming as she laid limp on the ground. Slowly, without thought, Roy's hand traveled up to his own throat, gently feeling for the scar that marked his skin. He imagined she had a heavy layer of bandages around her throat; one day, they would have matching scars. Roy was sure there was some ironic symbolism to be found there, but currently had no desire to search for it. Instead, the colonel just wanted to hear her voice again, but didn't have much else to say. Or at least, lacked the words. He might have asked more about Riza's well-being, but without sight, he had no choice but to take her word for it.

A minute passed as the other two said nothing. Roy could easily pick up on the hesitation in the air- he was sure they just didn't know what to say, looking at him like this. Watching him. He understood it, but god was it unnerving.

Thin black arms reached towards him as the eye in the gate stared into his soul, condemning him to Hell for unwillingly performing human transmutation. They latched around his limbs like shackles and pulled him into the darkness, deeper and deeper, colder and colder…

"Say something," he gasped at last, vehemently shaking the images out of his head. He didn't care which of them did it, but he needed something. Anything besides this mind-numbing silence where the memories would return all too easily. But he could almost feel the uncertainty floating around the room, which did absolutely nothing for his already fraying nerves.

Hawkeye cleared her throat, softly, almost inaudibly. "…Havoc came by earlier. He's been wanting to see you before he returns to his hometown."

"Havoc," Roy echoed quietly as the blond came to mind. Another casualty, leaving this war handicapped- just like him. "Is he still here?"

"He's in town," Maes supplied. "I can call him,"

Roy nodded thoughtlessly. He wasn't quite sure how that conversation would go; or how it would with any of his subordinates, actually. He felt ashamed just thinking about it- facing them like this.

Stop. Enough of that. _You've already done this._

Roy sighed and shook his own voice out of his head, nearly forgetting for a brief moment that he was being watched.

The arms slithered up his body, wrapping around his scarred neck and reaching up towards his eyes.

"Sir?"

Roy grimaced and crossed his legs and folded his arms, head down as if he were staring at them, though completely unaware that his eyes were narrowed, blindly glaring at nothing. "I don't-" he started slowly, unsure what he was going to say, but the words flowed anyway. "How am I supposed to continue like this? For the rest of my life…" At least in the crypt, as he slowly lost his mind, there was a small hope in the back of his head that he would make it out and everything would turn out alright. He got lucky with that one, but this time, what hope could he possibly have? His greatest obstacle was out of the way, but only to be replaced by an impassable one. "I was so close," he added, knuckles surly fading to white.

"You don't know that," Maes replied quickly, desperation creeping into his tone. "We can find a way through this, Roy. I swear- I swear we will."

"Who would support a blind Fuhrer, Maes?! Or even a blind general," Roy heard himself growl as his head shot up to stare in his direction. "I wouldn't. I can't lead anyone if I can't see where I'm taking them."

"Roy…"

"That damn Truth could have taken anything, but it chose my sight. And so much more was taken from me because of it. How is that equivalent?!"

There was a pause that felt like it took an eternity to pass. When Maes finally responded, he sounded like he was at a loss for words.

"You're starting to sound like Ed," he breathed softly, as if he was forcing a small smile into his tone, desperate to lighten the mood somewhat since he had no other response that would ease Roy's despair.

Roy dropped his stiffened shoulders with an exhale, not realizing that he became so tense. "…how are the Elrics doing?" The energy from his tone had completely disappeared as he silently chastised himself for erupting on Maes, while Riza was present no less. He needed to stop. They all knew his previous life was over at this point.

"They're doing well," Maes replied cautiously. But there was a subtle weakness in his voice that restored itself somewhat, grateful for the change in topic.

"Edward came in to visit a few times," Hawkeye added. There too was something odd in her voice, but Roy wasn't quite able to catch it before she steadied herself, as diligently as always. "Alphonse is still recovering, however. It'll likely be a while until he can make his way over here."

"I should go see them," Roy murmured, mostly to himself, not entirely aware that he was just trying to give himself a distraction from his own shuddering.

"I don't think you should be moving around yet," Maes' interjected, as sternly as his soft, saddened voice could manage.

Roy shifted his weight, mutely pondering his own injuries. In addition to the stab wounds in his hands, it all felt like old injuries had reappeared; he could ignore them easily enough, as he did so many times in the past. But that may have been thanks to the needle he noticed had returned to the crook of his arm. But for his friend's sake, the colonel did not argue. "Fine, but I still want to see Fullmetal." The words left his mouth before he could pick then out, and he couldn't help but grimace at the taste of saying see. He willed himself not to think about it.

"I'll find someone to check if Edward is awake," Hawkeye announced as there was a shuffle of fabric, followed by the quiet squeak of the door's hinges. Her soft steps trailed out of the room before he could think to argue, and Roy immediately missed her soothing voice. Should she really be moving around? He hated being unable to gauge her state with his own eyes...

He leaned his head back against the wall behind him to gaze at nothing, hardly aware that he was likely unnerving Maes, judging by the quiet beats that passed between them.

In spite of how adamantly he tried to fend them off, the images still appeared in his mind due to the lack of anything else to focus on.

Being swallowed by the gate, Truth smiling mutely at him. The homunculi laughed at his expense- at his suffering. He was powerless to fight back.

Maes cleared his throat with a soft cough, which was just enough to have Roy blink out of the images that kept harassing him, followed by an irritated growl from deep in his throat. He was going to lose his mind very quickly if he kept falling into a pit of vivid memories every time he wasn't in the middle of a conversation. But unfortunately, he had no idea how he would go about stopping it when he was reminded of his fate and the events that caused it every time he tried to open his eyes.

"…Roy?"

He _hmm_ ed lightly in response, mouth having gone dry.

"You holding up alright?"

The colonel found himself not wanting to answer the question, but Maes' heavy gaze resting on him didn't really allow him the freedom to keep his mouth shut. "Don't know," he eventually murmured, well aware of how unhelpful of an answer it was. Saying "yes" would be a flat out lie, but "no" tasted sour on his tongue. He couldn't keep letting everyone hang around to pity him.

Although, it wasn't like it was capable of stopping them, or giving them any real reason to stop…

"Let me know if there's anything I can do, alright?" his friend asked softly.

Roy just nodded stiffly and managed a clipped "sure". It seemed to be enough for Maes, but he couldn't help but doubt that he would ever want to take the man up on his offer. But as he stewed on the words for a moment, the silence continued, and he changed his mind- at least, in this single case. "Could you… keep talking?"

"Of course," he replied readily with an eased quality slipping into his tone. Roy could nearly feel the faint relief that floated from his friend. Happy to please, as he always was… Not like Roy could blame him; he knew very well how it felt to be useless.

And so, for the next several minutes, Maes rambled on about multiple topics, none in which had anything to do about their current situation, for which Roy was grateful. He mentioned his family of course, a new neighbor that moved in, made a few vague plans for things they should do later on, which Roy didn't bother agreeing with. He stayed silent throughout all of it, keeping his eyes shut and allowed Maes' voice to distract his mind from the demons that circled nearby.

Then quite abruptly, Roy paused and straightened his back as he heard familiarly uneven footfalls down the hall. They steadily grew louder until the door handle clicked to turn and the hinges were pushed open, causing Maes' current story to freeze.

"Fullmetal?" Roy asked abruptly, then coughed to rid of the hoarseness he felt in his throat.

"Uh- yeah," the kid's tone responded, with a quiet touch of surprise that was almost missed.

But he only heard one set of feet. "Where's Hawkeye?"

"I think the nurse sent her back to her room. And she mentioned calling the rest of the team about something. I'm not really sure."

Why would she… oh. Hawkeye was probably calling to update the team on his sorry state. He could probably expect to see them soon.

"I see." Roy sighed and shook his head as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed. Stop thinking about that. Stop, stop, just stop. "How are you and Alphonse doing?"

"We're good," Ed replied with a smile in his voice that Roy was more than pleased to hear, hoping it would lighten the depressing air that suffocated the room. "Did you- um- did you hear?"

"I haven't heard anything."

"He's been asleep until recently," Maes jumped in. "I figured you would want to tell him personally."

"Tell me what?"

"We did it, Colonel," Edward supplied as a proud eagerness radiated from him. "We got our bodies back."

Roy froze, trying to comprehend the words that were just said to him. He tried to picture it, but the manufactured images in his mind were far from good enough. The statement recalled memories of the promised day after he had already lost his sight, but they were all such a blur. "I- that's- that's great." A lame response for such an amazement announcement, but he felt a smile pull at his lips as he allowed himself to revel in their success for long enough to briefly forget about his own state.

"Yeah," the blond added warmly as he shuffled further into the room. "Al's body needs to recover and he still needs to get used to- well, feeling things again. It'll take time, but we have all the time in the world now."

But still, he could not picture it. "And what about you? You… have your arm back?"

"Yep!"

Amazing… it should have been easy to imagine Edward with two flesh arms. And yet, it proved relentlessly to be a challenge. Roy had been imagining it since he first met the boy, before he so much as got equipped with automail. And now that they have finally accomplished their mission, merely imagining it was wasn't good enough.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Uh- yeah, I- I suppose I… can't believe it," Roy replied with a short, clipped laugh that didn't quite reach any other part of him. But as an idea occurred to him, the colonel visibly hesitated, but persisted regardless. His left arm rose carefully, embarrassed as he lightly held onto the cold air. "Do you… could I…?"

He trailed off pathetically, unsure how to string his words together into something that didn't sound idiotic. But thank god, he didn't need to. He may have been asking for it, but Roy still managed to jump when Edward's hand fell into his. His right hand; his small, frail, weak, unfamiliar flesh right hand.

A quiet gasp escaped his gaping lips as it began to sink in. He was completely still for a moment, mind blank. His right arm rose as well to cover Edward's hand, holding the kid's frail limb inside his grasp. The sensation was muted slightly by the bandages there, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. There were days there he thought he would never experience such a thing, whether it was due to doubt in himself, or the boy's incredibly ambitious quest. And yet here they were. With Ed's hand enclosed within his own, the pieces in his mind fit together a little more snug. While it wasn't ideal, it was better. It would do.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

"You did it," Roy whispered as he lowered his head, his smile growing wider. "You really did it. You and Alphonse." As he mentioned the younger Elric, the image of the suit of armor flashed in his mind. An arm was something, but… Just as quickly as it appeared, his smile fell as a new reality struck him. "I… I've never seen him."

"…huh?"

Roy pursed his lip as more damn emotions began to bubble at the surface. He tried to push it down, but didn't have much faith in his ability to do so. "Alphonse," he supplied quietly, fearing that his voice was about to give him away. "I've never actually seen what he looks like… I met you two right after you put his soul in that suit, and I became blind right before he finally gets his body back." He had seen a picture or two of them as children years ago, but…

Edward's hand tensed and he did not respond.

"I always thought that I would see what he looked like someday. I looked forward to it. I…" Roy shut his useless eyes, before they would further betray him with any more damning emotions. But even though it tore at what little dignity remained, he sniffed miserably, glad that he already had his head bowed. But with how much his hands were surely shaking, he doubted he was fooling anyone.

Roy released Edward's hands, unwilling to let him feel how his own limbs shook shamefully. He cursed under his breath, silently chastising himself for being so selfish. He was supposed to be happy. He was supposed to smile and congratulate them!

Pathetic. _You're supposed to be better than this._ Weak.

Becoming blind was like taking a canon to every one of his emotional walls. What the hell…

Neither Ed or Maes said anything, but he could sense their discomfort. Because of him.

_Control yourself, damn it! Don't do this to them again!_

Roy tensed his jaw and pressed his palms against his closed eyes, fingers curling into his bangs. "I'm sorry," he said through his bared teeth, unable to raise his head even if his eyes worked properly. "I'm sorry you two have to deal with me. I'm happy for you. I-"

A weight plowed into him, cutting Roy off. He straightened up in shock as two arms wrapped around his back. Edward hugged him with such determination that left the alchemist speechless, briefly fending off the coldness that had set in his bones and refused to leave him be until then.

"Shut up, dumbass," Edward huffed, his saddened voice muffled slightly through the thin fabric of Roy's shirt. "You're allowed to be upset."

"But-"

"I said shut up. Idiot." Ed's coarse words did not quite reach his tone. His shoulders shook and his voice quivered. Despite the insults, Roy felt a small pitiable smile pull at his lips as he lifted his arms and returned the hug, pulling the kid closer to him.

Edward talked big, but he was too sympathetic for his own good.

"It's not fair," he went on, resting his head against Roy's shoulder. "It's not fair at all."

Now there was something that Roy didn't quite understand, he mused quietly. He felt so useless. Pathetic and useless and invalid. But even as he was weakened and blinded, he could still do this much. He could somehow still comfort Ed when he needed it, despite knowing that it was really he who needed that comfort. Edward must have known that too.

And Maes was still watching, wasn't he? But for the moment, Roy allowed himself to not care. Besides, his friend was the last person who would somehow judge him for this.

"You should be celebrating right now; not comforting me."

Edward inhaled harshly through his teeth, then exhaled deeply before he could muster up a response. "I don't care," he huffed. "It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not going to stop until it's made right."

"Life's not fair," Roy heard himself say over Ed's shoulder, partially talking to himself. "All things considered, we were lucky. At least I survived." The words may have been said in his voice, but Roy failed to truly believe them. He tried to force the mindset onto himself, tried to convince himself that it was true- that it was okay. And yet, his chest only felt hollower the more he went on. "I could have died long ago. But I'm still here."

"But you're miserable," Edward replied sullenly into his shoulder as if he was reluctant to admit the dour truth.

Roy took a short, quiet breath and willed his tone to sound as lively as possible- which all things considered, was not saying much. "I did it once, I can do it again." But as he said that, Roy's heart ached with doubt. He felt a pressure in his throat as his briefly thought about a sightless future before quickly casting it away before Ed could notice.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Edward pulled back just enough to study Roy's expression, unwittingly making him feel extremely exposed when he couldn't do the same.

"It's not your responsibility to fix my problems, Edward," he said, fighting the urge to shy away from his piercing stare. "When you leave here, you and Alphonse need to go back home and enjoy your lives." Roy meant that, he realized only as the words left his dry mouth. And yet, he couldn't help the regretful stab he felt in his chest when Edward didn't seem to respond. His silence drew on for several beats. He might have wondered if the kid had disappeared if it were not for his hands were now holding his shoulders by arm's length.

Edward's hands tensed right before he wordlessly pulled himself back into the embrace, which Roy returned without a second thought.

* * *

The sun began to set at least, streaming it's dying light through the open windows. The pale orange rays might have appeared to be calming to some- tranquil, perhaps, as it splashed color through this entirely white room. But to Maes, all it signified was the end of another challenging day, and bringing him closer to the next.

Roy and Edward continued to sit in a comfortable silence for several moments longer before it morphed into idle conversation as Maes stood off to the side earlier that day. At the very least, the colonel had unknowingly dropped much of the effort that was ordinarily put into controlling his face while he listened to Edward ramble on about nothing, allowing Maes to see the many emotions that crossed his visage. It was almost too much for him to take, at some point. The raw sadness, despair… but there was also a calmness that lasted for a few blissful minutes that managed to somewhat ease the ache that had been pulling on his heart for days.

But eventually, the blond had to leave and return to his brother's side, but not without once again declaring that he would find a way to heal Roy's eyes. As much as Maes wanted to believe him, he fought to keep himself from anticipating anything. Edward had proven time and time again that he was capable of accomplishing amazing feats, but he couldn't put all his hopes on the kid when he still had so much on his plate.

Once he was gone, Maes halfheartedly tried to get conversation going, but Roy seemed too drained to participate. He laid back down on the bed, vacant eyes staring out at the ceiling as his arms loosely hung around himself. To give it a word, he looked… resigned.

He spent the next half hour trying to come up with something uplifting to say to his poor friend, but before he could find the words, Roy had fallen asleep. It was better that way, Maes told himself somberly as he remained there for a few minutes for. But after some time, he decided to take this moment to grab something to eat in the hospital's cafeteria, seeing as it was unlikely Roy would wake up too soon.

The lieutenant colonel only noticed then that he hasn't eaten anything all day. No longer ignoring his empty stomach, he quietly left the room and began his walk to the bottom floor.

However, he did not get far before he heard the jostle of a door handle further down the hall, and saw Riza poke her head out, leaning slightly against the frame.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Hawkeye's quiet, steady voice said behind him. He paused to face her, unsure if he was glad or disappointed that his quest for food was halted, considering how he was unsure if he'd be able to actually swallow anything at the moment. "

"Shouldn't you be resting?" he asked carefully, knowing she was the last person he should have to monitor.

"I was, but there was a call from headquarters. Fuhrer Grumman is asking about Roy."

Hughes bit his tongue as he pondered the many ways to approach his response. He knew Grumman and Roy were close, but he wouldn't dare risk saying anything that could jeopardize Roy's career. The new Fuhrer was a good man, but there was no telling how he would respond to the colonel gone blind. He had visited while Roy was asleep, and thankful did not have to see the extent of his sorry state. Since then, he had been too busy to return.

Roy's words had a ring of truth to them when he asked who would follow a blind leader. Anyone close to him would follow no matter the disability, he was sure. However, when it came to the rest of the military or the nation for that matter…

"I'll tell him Colonel Mustang has a long road ahead of him… but he'll manage."

Hawkeye nodded as she processed the words. But a moment later, she looked back up at him with a touch of uncertainty in her sherry eyes. "Do you really believe that?" There wasn't any doubt in her voice, but nor was their certainty. Only a curious question as she searched in his expression for anything to grasp onto. She was looking for hope.

As for Maes, he wasn't sure if he had what she was looking for, or if he was just being too stubborn to accept to facts and what they painfully tried to spell out. It was foolish to imply to Grumman that Roy would be back on his feet as if nothing had happened. He was being unreasonable by doing it- he knew that. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to take the words back.

If he was to be proven wrong in the long run, then so be it. Maes would deal with it then.

But for now, admitting that Roy's career was over was too much for him to bear.


	3. Chapter 3

Roy gasped sharply and scrambled to sit up and push himself into the furthest corner of wherever he was as images of ravenous dogs flashed in his mind. He could almost hear them, feel their hungry breath nearing his throat, see their eyes gleaming. He curled in on himself defensively as his hand rose to his neck as if to make sure that he still wasn’t bleeding.

But Roy froze as a machine besides him beeped- a sound that did not belong in his nightmares. Roy blinked, hoping some images would return as they did before, but no- still nothing. His scarred fingers curled into the soft sheets below him and he took in the sterile scent of the room he occupied.

He wasn’t _back there._ He was safe. It was fine.

He was _safe._

A slow, shaken exhale slipped through his lips as he willed his shoulders to relax.

Roy remained there for a moment until his pulse steadied, then eventually pushed himself to sit up and listened carefully to his surroundings. It was quieter than usual, but he could still make out the occasional steps of a hurried nurse down the hall every now and again. But besides that, he seemed to be alone. Someone would have said something by now.

“…Maes?” Roy said just above a whisper, his voice hoarse from the time he had been asleep. No response. The colonel shifted his legs through the sheets until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, mentally preparing himself to stand and fight back to deep-rooted nervousness that began to spring to life in his chest. “Anyone?”

And then he heard it: a light, subtle groan that sounded like Maes was indeed there, mumbling something in his sleep. The faint sound came from the corner that visitors tended to migrate to, thanks to the chair that was undoubtedly waiting there.

Discovering that Maes stuck with his promise to stay was comforting, but he still managed to feel ashamed of it at the same time. Roy shouldn’t need anyone to watch over him. But like it or not, he had learned from experience that being blind and alone was a terrifying combination, and no amount of forced courage would change that.

However, he could still manage to endure. He would have to, at this rate.

He had to, he had to, _he had to._

It seemed like another day passed, just as painfully as the one before. Every waking moment since the promised day consisted of pity and a deep, constant nervousness that only became stronger as time passed and he had to think about the future more and more. Tuning it out was impossible when it always ended in Roy remembering that opening and closing his eyes didn’t do anything besides remind him of the merciless reality of the situation. At some point, he began to think that the sooner he accepted it, the easier this whole damnable process would be.

And then maybe he would stop feeling people’s pitiful gazes impale him like spears every time someone walked into the room.

He wouldn’t plummet to that miserable _thing_ he became before; frightened of every creak in the floorboards, jumping from a gust of wind… Roy was better than that.

No matter what anyone else thought or said, he was better than that. He’d prove it if he had to.

But as that thought came to mind, a litany of cruel voices tried to stomp it out, reminding him that he was pathetic and useless and couldn’t take three steps without freezing because he needed someone to guide him.

Roy pushed himself off the bed, well-braced for the chill that encompassed his feet the moment they made contact with the tile. As he stood, he took a moment for the small wave of dizziness to fade before carefully inching his way to the door.

The degrading voices continued, demanding that he lay back down, accept his fate. He was stupid for trying. He was going to hit something or fall on his face or get lost.

What was he even trying to do?

Roy had no way to answer, but something pushed him forwards regardless.

With his arms spread out, his fingertips soon found the wall and he was able to guide himself to the door with relative ease. Thankfully, he managed to reach a middle ground with the nurses by letting them bandage up his palms but keep his fingers mostly unbound. Had his hands not ached from being stabbed straight through, he would have argued with them on that as well.

But that was another entirely new and just as concerning matter. Knowing there was little he could do about it, Roy tried not to think about how his movement of some fingers was dulled even further than they already were. Hopefully that would heal, but for the time being, he had to be extra careful as he wandered around. The colonel was sure it was only a matter of time before someone tried to offer him a walking cane, but the idea was less than ideal, to say the absolute least.

Roy tested the door handle. Unlocked.

Of course, why wouldn’t it be? He smiled grimly at himself as he slowly pushed the door open, listening for any oncoming traffic. Maes was still sound asleep, it seemed. Roy didn’t mean to sneak out necessarily, but it made things easier. His friend, like everyone else, was worried about him. They spoke and moved around him as if he were made of glass. It was all painfully similar to his situation back when he was recovering from being imprisoned by Envy.

They meant well, he knew, but it was… tiring. He wanted to walk down a hall or two without someone hovering. If he couldn’t even prove that he could do that much on his own, that what good was he? Even while handicapped before, he broke his way out of that underground prison, fought off Envy, and kept everyone else alive. He could do this much.

Roy took a deep, calming breath as he reassured himself that he was not breaking any rules. Earlier, nurses were even encouraging him to take a stroll. With overwhelming supervision, surely, but… still.

He stepped out and closed the door behind him, taking a moment to listen again to the halls. He still didn’t hear any foot traffic at least, and picked a direction at random. With each slow step, he glided his hand across the smooth wall, hesitating slightly as each door and intersection he came across.

Despite the interruptions every moment his hand lost contact with the wall, Roy allowed his mind to wander.

There was something almost refreshing about walking around by himself, which he supposed was what his subconsciously looking for. The revived fear of being alone was still present, but this escapade of his was all for the purpose of combating it.

Somehow, he began to sense that he was reaching the end of the hall, and quickly felt the solid metal of one of the doors that blocked the staircase, ready to be locked in case of emergencies. But on this calm night, it was unlocked. Well, going up would look better than continuously pacing. Without thought, he pushed it open and kept walking, and nearly tripped when his foot collided into what he discovered to be a step after he nearly collapsed. Muttering a short stream of curses under his breath, Roy found the bar that curved along with the staircase and grabbed hold of it to pull himself to the next floor.

As he continued on aimlessly, the soft footfalls of a nurse grew closer and for a moment, Roy began to panic before willing himself to appear composed. He may have been blind, but he could still put on a decent show.

As methodically as possible, the colonel forced some confidence into his walk and faced ahead. All he had to do was keep his attention downcast but focused enough to not draw attention, and he hopefully wouldn’t look like he was lost and without sight. And of course, hope the nurse did not recognize him.

The nurse’s steps drew closer, towards him and apparently hasty. He was half afraid that he’d run into her, and kept close to the wall, silently bracing himself for whatever could happen as she neared him.

Her steps came and passed without much sign of hesitation, and more importantly, no attempts to stop him. He almost didn’t expect that to work…

Roy allowed himself a small smile as the nurse’s steps faded into another hall. As he reached an intersection, his feet slowed until he was standing still, gazing blankly at nothing. He felt inclined to ask himself yet again what he was even doing. What was he trying to accomplish? He came out here with the motivation to prove something, but what was there to prove when merely walking a straight line felt like an accomplishment?

He turned and strained his ears to listen down each path, hearing nothing of note in all directions. But then, his mind blinked in the darkness, and with one more turn in a random direction, Roy coldly realized that he had no idea where he had come from.

Fantastic…

That bitter, slightly confident sarcasm went just as quickly as it came, and Roy was left with only the uncertainty for company.

With a shaking exhale, he tried to think back and retrace his steps to the best of his ability. However, he hit a roadblock second afterwards.

Instead of walking to another hall as he expected, his hands found a wall in his path. The sudden feeling of being trapped burst in his chest, but he shoved it down the best he could, smothering memories from the past. This was different. He wasn’t _down there,_ escaping capture. He was safe.

Roy searched the surface in front of him, fingertips registering glass and a bar of cool metal, like those that led to staircases. Curious, he pushed it open and a cold gust swept over him. He paused, breath yanked from his lungs for a moment as he scrambled to compose himself. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but that wasn’t quite it.

But for some reason he couldn’t quite explain, Roy stepped out nonetheless and the heavy door fell to close behind him.

* * *

 

Something faint and insistent prodded at the back of Maes’ mind. He tried to swat it away and leaned further into the hard wooden chair that he had somehow managed to get comfortable in, but it persisted. He groaned irritably when it pulled him out of his sleep, and finally opened his tired, groggy eyes just to make the feeling shut up. He scanned around the darkened hospital room, not expecting to see anything out of the ordinary. He almost closed his eyes again, but not before the sight before him slapped him in the face, causing him to sit up with haste, nearly losing his balance in the process.

Roy was gone.

Eyes wide and heart suddenly racing in his throat, all traces of that previous tiredness vanished in an instant. He rose to his feet, eyes scanning the room for any signs, but after a frantic moment, he willed himself to back up and take a deep breath. This could mean anything. Don’t freak out just yet.

But after a quick check out the door, the nearest restroom, and even out the window, he allowed himself to freak out.

Where the hell did he go!? And how did a blind man sneak out without waking him? Maes wasn’t above admitting that he may have switched back into parent mode since Roy begged him to stay, and would have been woken if a mouse stepped foot into the room.

Or at least, that’s what he thought, but that was apparently not the case.

Ed’s room, maybe? He wasn’t sure how the man could find it, and this was hardly the time to be visiting fellow patients, but then again, he wouldn’t have known how late it was. Or maybe he thought Maes had left him alone, and went looking for him?

Whatever the case, he wasn’t going to waste any more time pacing around the room. Maes hurried out and raced down the hall as quietly as he could. His pulse quickened the closer he got to the Elric’s room until he haphazardly pushed the door open, eyes straining to make out the scene.

It was just the two brothers, sleeping soundly with no sight of the lost colonel.

Maes’ shoulders fell in defeat as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

 _Damn it…_ Where the hell did he go!?

“Hughes?” a tired, slurred voice muttered from further within the room.

Maes blinked his attention to Edward as the kid slowly pushed himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes wearily. “What’re you doing here?”

“Sorry to wake you,” he whispered despondently. “I’m looking for Roy.”

That seemed to shake some more awareness into the blond. “He’s missing?”

“I… yeah,” he admitted, the words burning in his mouth. “I just woke up and he was gone.”

Edward muttered a worn, equally tired “shit” as he lethargically inched off the bed, his sore muscles surely slowing him down.

Maes was about to tell the kid to lay back down, but before he could get the words out, the second Elric was stirred awake as well.

“Brother?” Al murmured, his young voice noticeably lacking the metallic tint that he had grown so used to. “Mr. Hughes? What’s going on?”

“Mustang ran off somehow,” Edward supplied as he stood up. “We’re gonna go look for him.”

“Actually, I-“ Maes began to again tell him that it would be best if Ed rested as well, but was promptly cut off.

“Oh no,” Al gasped as he began to push himself to sit up, with much more effort put into the action. “Where do you think he went?”

“Whoa- hey, lay back down.”

“But I want to help,” the younger brother complained.

“You need to rest,” the older brother corrected sternly. “I’m only going because I know what that bastard’s dealing with right now. I watched him deal with the same thing for weeks. And if this is anything like how it was back then, then… I need to be there for him.”

As he listened, Maes felt the argument he had prepared die on his lips. What could he have even said? There was no use arguing against that.

Alphonse seemed to come to the same conclusion as his shoulder slumped and he allowed his weakened body to drop back onto the bed. “Alright,” he huffed quietly. Then with a faint smile, he added “you better hurry up and find him then.”

In response, Edward grinned confidently and nodded before turning to face Maes. “Let’s go,” he announced and hurried past him and out the door.

* * *

 

He was on a balcony. The cool wind swept over the building and the distant sounds of traffic filled the air and warding off the maddening ringing that sung every time he was somewhere that was just a little too quiet. At least out here, he could feel the air and the space around him, and there was never a moment of pure silence.

Roy found himself cautiously walking further out, vaguely recalling the relative length of the balcony from trips there far in the past.

Soon, he felt the railing of the roof and grasped onto it and releasing a deep exhale the moment he did. The colonel failed to realize just how nervous walking out here made him until he had something to hold onto.

But if just this set him off, how was he supposed to do anything else? How was he supposed to continue his career or get from one place to another or even shop for groceries so he didn’t starve to death?

There wasn’t any way to do any of that without someone holding his hand, was there? Roy leaned his forearms on the bar, head bowed, allowing the wind to sweep through his hair and thin hospital clothes. It was cold and probably some ungodly hour of the night, but that at least the steady breeze kept him from thinking about the crypt- _or the coffin._

A violent shiver ran down his spine, and he quickly banished the thought.

Roy was a stubborn man. He took pride in his relentless attitude even when all hope seemed lost. But he could only manage that because the future was unknown. Because if he kept trying, kept persevering, doors might open and allow him a way out. And they always did. He always managed somehow. The entire ordeal with Envy was a testament to that. But being blind closed the doors in front of him. He was stuck at a dead end, with the only way forward being a miserable, useless existence.

Roy’s stiff, scarred hand moved slowly up to his neck, lightly feeling for the rough scar that remained there. A reminder of when he gave up and tried to escape his daunting fate. A cold pit formed in his gut from the memory of it- and when Edward found his unconscious, bleeding body.

Out of the entire experience, his greatest regret may have been allowing the kid to stumble upon him like that. But it would have been monumentally worse if Roy had died that night. But because of Ed and Maes, he lived.

He lived, he struggled, he healed, and when he finally pulled himself out of that pit of despair, he was kicked backed down and lost his eyes in the fall.

And there he stood, at the edge of a hospital balcony, several floors up from the ground, and with no idea of how to get back to his room.

 _Who am I trying to kid?_ Roy thought viciously, his knuckles curling tighter around the bar. _I can’t do shit by myself anymore._ He hunched his back further until his forehead made contact with the chilled metal, stubbornly ignoring how his body shivered.

All of the false confidence he had been pushing onto himself- this feigned sense of acceptance- all a complete waste of energy. Roy kept trying to tell himself that he was better than this, that he would somehow manage, that he was fine with losing everything… What a disgusting lie.

He was useless like this.

 _Useless, useless, useless_ , and he would drag all of the others down with him. They stuck by him before with the hope that he could overcome the challenges that being trapped and isolated in complete darkness for so long caused. But this- there was no overcoming this.

There was _coping_. And maybe he could do that much. Maybe he could get a trained dog to pull him around and accomplish nothing. He would be alive, which is all he could really hope for at this point. But he couldn’t let the others wait up for him. He couldn’t let them be dragged down by him. Roy would simply not allow it. He would make them continue on without him so they could succeed where he had failed, and he would wave them off with a smile, and hold it as long as he could. It wouldn’t reach his eyes, he knew, but he had no right to expect his eyes to cooperate by now.

“Roy!”

The colonel blinked and rose his head, half wondering if the voice he heard was real or not, and half appalled that he could feel a warm swell in his eyes. But a beat later, and he was sure of it. He could hear the footfalls approach him from behind, and his back froze stiff, refusing to turn to face them.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” Edward’s voice called, failing to belly the fear in his tone.

Roy didn’t know how to respond. He straightened up from his closed posture, quickly rubbing at his eyes to get rid of the damn tears before they could fall. “Nothing,” he said lamely, his voice coming out far more mumbled and despondent than he had planned. But it was true, wasn’t it? _Nothing_ was all that he could do.

“Damn it, Roy,” Maes huffed as he drew closer. Roy felt himself turn away as shame coiled in his chest. “You can’t just run off like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

To that, the colonel did not respond. A torrent of disorganized thoughts streamed through his mind, making him incapable of forming something coherent, but he could feel his friend’s frustration undulating off of him in waves. But Roy’s lack of a response allowed the silence to pass for several moments, and he eventually heard Maes take a deep breath.

“Just step away from the rail, Roy.”

And then it dawned on the alchemist what they were so afraid of. He paused as the thought sunk in before he finally pushed himself to face them. “Did you think I was going to jump?”

“I- no, I just…” he stumbled and trailed off.

Roy sighed and shoved down the unreasonable vehemence. “Or is it because I’m blind? And you’re afraid I’ll trip and die.”

“Come on Roy, that’s not fair.”

“Nothing about this is fair,” he growled, Ed’s words echoing in his head.

“It’s gonna be okay, Mustang. You did this once; you can do it again,” Edward added, a plea hidden in his tone as he threw Roy’s own words back at him.

The colonel heard himself scoff at the recent memory. He was trying to be optimistic for Ed’s sake, but the fact of the matter was that everything he said before were hollow lies, used to convince himself despite the situation. It’s only been a few days, but Roy was tired of this charade. “I don’t _want_ to do it again. I _barely_ managed the first time. But this isn’t the same, Fullmetal. This is different.”

“You’re right about that much,” the kid fired back without missing a beat. “When you were trapped underground, you were alone. But you’re not this time. It won’t be as bad.”

“That’s hopeful thinking,” Roy mumbled.

“What’s wrong with that?” Again, the older alchemist did not respond, and he heard Edward take a few steps closer to him. “Listen, Mustang; I was thinking about it… Al and I were able to get our bodies back from the gate. There’s… there’s gotta be a way for you to get your eyes back.”

Roy paused, mouth held slightly ajar as he tried to wrap his bustling mind around the statement.

“I still need to work it out,” Edward continued, slightly quieter as his voice combated against the wind. “But no matter what Truth tries to spin, this wasn’t equivalent. But until we figure it out, you need to carry on no matter what. Just like how Al and I did.”

Roy slackened his shoulders. The hope in Edward’s voice stilled the spinning of his head, allowing him to actually focus on them for a moment. Despite all his sorrow, he couldn’t help but hold onto the kid’s words. If he had learned anything over the past few years, it was that Edward wouldn’t let anything stop him.

But at the same time, he couldn’t quite help the shame that shadowed that small spark of hope. Edward had already fought and won his battle. Why should he have to do the same for Roy?

“Right,” Maes added with a lighter tone in his voice all of a sudden. This must have been the first he had heard of Ed’s plan too. “And until then, it’ll be alright, Roy. We can work something out with Grumman, especially if Ed thinks there’s a way to fix this. There are still things you can do.”

“Like what?” he snapped back under his breath.

“Like... what about Ishval? You've been planning the restoration for years! Are you just going to give up on all of that?”

Roy did not respond.

“You don't need to see to promote it, Roy,” Maes pressed further. “Whether or not Edward figures something out, with the homunculi gone and Grumman as Fuhrer, there isn't anything stopping you from doing this.”

Roy hesitated to let them get his hopes up any higher. Any more so, and the potential failure would become a devastating blow. But then again, such a decision was nothing new to him, to say the least.

“I… suppose…” he heard himself breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with them even at this point. A cold sense of resignation spread through his system, but it could very well be due to him lacking the energy to argue.

“Yeah,” Maes replied quietly, relief flowing easily through his tone nonetheless. “Now we should really get back inside. You look like you’re freezing.”

Roy, still lacking any words, simply nodded and took a few uncertain steps forward, acutely aware of Maes' attempts to hurry him back inside. But again, after having become more conscious of his surroundings due to their intervention, the prospect of wandering sightlessly on the windy balcony struck a chord in his chest that the other two must have picked up on in a split second. He heard hasty footsteps and froze to the spot, suddenly dizzy.

But Maes appeared by his side and slung an arm over his shoulder, while he felt Ed hover around protectively. Roy might have minded, but for the moment, he was too focused on the warmth and the stability that having them there gave him.

“Damn, you’re shivering,” Edward muttered under his breath as they began moving towards the door. Some stubborn defiance sparked in Roy’s mind, convincing him to reach out for the kid’s shoulder.

“So are you,” he said, as if that somehow won an argument.

“Maybe coming out here was a bad idea for both of us,” the blond suggested pointedly.

Despite himself, Roy felt himself smile thinly. “Maybe so… if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t come here on purpose.”

“Then what the hell were you trying to do?” Edward asked, not so harshly despite his choice of phrasing.

“I-” Roy paused as they stepped through the doorway, caught off guard when the cool winds suddenly disappeared and was replaced by the slightly warmer air that smelled of medicine and floor wax. “I'm not sure...”

He might have said that he was trying to prove something, but that would surely just make him look doubly pathetic. And something told Roy that it wouldn't have been entirely true anyway. That was the excuse he gave himself earlier, but perhaps he was just feeling somewhat self-destructive.

Edward’s eyes stayed glued to him as they walked through the empty halls, targeting Roy with a sort of knowingly dubious stare. Though it may had been pushed far into the past, the colonel had quite a bit of experience with sensing when eyes were on him, and the weight they carried. The way Edward looked at him, and Roy didn’t need to see to know he was reading deeply into his seemingly unhelpful, terse answer.

He never replied, however. There wasn’t really anything to be said. But something told him that Ed knew exactly what he meant, long before Roy figured it out for himself.

* * *

 

The image of Roy standing on the edge of the roof had seared itself into Maes' eyes, and stubbornly haunted him that night for every waking moment, as well as when he managed to drift off sporadically as he slouched in the room’s uncomfortable armchair. But in spite of how much the sight had terrified him, Maes made a point to avoid mentioning it much. That moment must have meant something to Roy. His comportment changed after that night- how exactly, Maes wasn't yet sure. Perhaps he didn’t need to know the details. It seemed positive, from what he could tell.

He seemed more willing, at least. He agreed to having the team over the next day, perhaps believing that their presence would do him some good. He was trying. Sure, he would drop into a sullen sulk every now and again and still panic any period of silence lasted longer than a few seconds, but he was _trying._

Maes had no earthly idea who planned it, but the team coordinated themselves to come to the hospital with an air of positivity that entirely bit back the usual despondence that filled the room. And a few days of persistent encouragement, they unanimously decided that it was time for the next stage. The team entered the hospital room with a few books in hand and the determination to give Roy some sort of purpose, which quickly lead into the issue of Ishval.

Which was… curious.

Of course they all knew of Roy’s desire to restore Ishval to what it once was before the war, but since the man had gone blind, they’ve all been distracted and worried that he would digress back into the sad creature he was many months ago. As far as he was aware, Maes was the first to mention Ishval since before the promised day, and he certainly didn’t think to suggest the others come prepared to encourage the idea. To be fair, Maes planned on doing that later- after giving Roy a little more time. But they saw their superior putting in a slight effort, and had no intentions on missing the opportunity. 

Something told him that Edward played a part in that decision as well. The kid was not known for his patience, after all. But Maes was too distracted by overseeing the clamor the team caused to hunt him down.

Roy did not appear all too eager to play along with his team when they jumped right into quizzing him on Ishvalan cultures and customs so he could better relate to the people and help rebuild their land. Ordinarily, the man may have blocked them out, insisting that he would be unable to do his job without his eyes. But as Maes had speculated, there was something very subtly different about him since the night he found himself on the balcony. Something that allowed him to at least sit up straight and participate to the best of his ability. it was almost microscopic at first, but in comparison, it had certainly grown, though it wasn't always easy to tell.

Of course, there still remained a disquieting sense around him, which seemed to be impossible to avoid as long as he couldn’t see, but… at least it wasn’t crippling.

Hawkeye had joined the group as well, watching contently from the armchair that Maes was quick to offer. She was keeping the talking to a minimum until her wound healed, but her presence seemed to help Roy somewhat; all of them did, after he was steadily readjusting to the multiple bodies filling the room.

Maes watched by the sidelines with a weary smile on his face, leaning against the wall by the door. For a brief moment, Roy almost seemed like his usual self again as he spoke amongst the team, in between their quizzing. He was sure that many trials still awaited them and he tried to prepare himself for the pep talks he may need to have ready next time Roy began to doubt himself. It seemed as if the entirety of Roy’s team was dead set on dragging him back to the top, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Poor Roy really couldn’t catch a break, Maes thought with a quiet, amused sigh.

He would have been perfectly happy if this moment went on forever, and was determined to enjoy every moment of it. It felt to be the first semi-peaceful moment since the promised day. It already felt so long ago…

But interrupting his musing, Maes heard muffled voices behind the door. The other occupants in the room didn’t seem to notice as he curiously opened it and stepped outside, eyes immediately falling on a set of blond teens.

“Don’t drive me into the wall, Brother!” Alphonse, in a wheelchair guided by Edward, lightly exclaimed just a meter or two from where Maes stood.

“Stop shifting your weight,” the older Elric shot back easily.

“I hardly weigh anything!”

Ed opened his mouth to make some kind of remark, but his golden eyes fell on the lieutenant colonel first and drew his thoughts away from the non-issue. “Oh- hey. We came to see how Mustang’s doing.”

Maes watched him curiously, trying to read into his expression and see if there was anything of note there- to see if he happened to know that Roy was currently in the middle of a history lesson. But the sly kid must have taken a page out of Roy’s book, because he couldn’t quite come to a conclusion.

“He looks to be doing better,” Maes said with a smile, almost amazed that he was allowed to say that. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you both.”

“That’s good to hear,” Al replied from the wheelchair. “I haven’t been able to see him at all yet.”

He wasn’t sure how much Edward decided to relay to his younger brother, but Roy’s voice stating that he never got to see what Alphonse looked like echoed in his mind, and his smile faltered for a moment, hopefully too quickly for them to pick up on.

But nonetheless, Maes moved to open the door for them, hoping their presence would further boost his friend’s mood.

“Mr. Hughes!”

He paused with an arm extended for the door, and the three of them turned to see a nurse quickly approaching. Reading from her expression, she didn’t seem overly concerned, but it was enough to put him at pause all the same.

“Yes?”

“The colonel is very popular today,” the young nurse said cheerfully. He furrowed his brow, unsure why they were having this conversation, but she continued before he could ask. “He has another guest who’s asking to visit. Dr. Marcoh; he said he knows you all.”

Maes’ eyes fell to the two blonds, who returned it with equally curious glances.

“Shall I send him up?”

“…yes, let’s see what he wants.”

The nurse nodded and turned on her heel to return the way she came, leaving the three alone with their thoughts.

Maes was about to make light of it; say some offhanded comment about the doctor hearing the news and give his regards. But the lack of sleep must have been getting to him, because he didn’t realize what the man’s visit could have meant until he looked back up at Edward and caught the look on his face.

From behind the wheelchair and out of his brother’s line of sight, Edward was giving the floor a hard stare, eyes churning with an unsaid intensity, and Al wasn’t far behind on his train of thought, it seemed. And then Maes remembered that Marcoh was known for performing miracles, but with the help of a philosopher’s stone.

But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to stew on that thought at that very moment. 

“Come on, let’s let Roy know you’re here,” he said, suddenly breaking Edward out of his thoughts with a startled jump.

“Good idea,” Alphonse replied for his brother, smiling thinly. They all knew the situation had the potential to get much more complicated as soon as Marcoh made his way up. But until then, they might as well greet the colonel.

The future was uncertain, but at least in that moment, Maes couldn’t bring himself to feel too worried. Inside that room was his friend who had suffered an unfair amount of great trials. When he opened the door to join him, that friend was surrounded by people who cared for him; and despite his previous doubts, Roy was smiling. And though he had no idea how this ordeal would end, something told him with utmost certainty that it would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. That's it, no more Postmortem content. I hope you all enjoyed the journey. Thanks for sticking around. :)  
> As always, updates of my next projects will be on my profile!


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